Edgar Allan Poe and Marie Antoinette are stuck in Cabin in a Snowstorm and forced to have a deep conversation.

Here is the dialogue:

"This oppressive gloom," Poe lamented, gazing into the fire, "mirrors the raven's shadow, an eternal reminder of lost Lenore, and all that is irrevocably gone."

Marie Antoinette, shivering slightly, replied, "Ah, Monsieur Poe, loss is a familiar companion, even for a Queen; they took everything, even my dignity."

"Dignity is but a gilded cage, Madame," Poe countered, "hiding the ravenous despair that festers within, a darkness I know intimately."

"Yet, even in the face of the guillotine," she declared, straightening her posture, "one can find a certain…grace, a final flourish before the abyss."

Poe, intrigued, whispered, "An abyss? A vast and starless void where reason drowns in the wine-dark sea of madness?"

Marie Antoinette sighed, "Perhaps. Or perhaps merely a return to the earth, a silent, unassuming rest."

"Rest is a cruel jest, Madame," Poe retorted, "for in dreams, the specters of regret return to haunt the sleeper."

"But what else is there, Monsieur Poe, when every joy has turned to ash? Can we not find solace in the fleeting beauty of a simple snowflake?" she asked, gazing out the window.

"Beauty is but a fleeting illusion," Poe declared, "a siren's song leading us to the treacherous rocks of disillusionment and inevitable decay."

"Then let us indulge in this fleeting illusion, Monsieur Poe," Marie Antoinette concluded, "for even in the face of oblivion, a memory, a moment of beauty, can hold its own light."